


Halcyon Days

by VanillaMostly



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, POV Minor Character, Post-Mockingjay, Pre-Epilogue Mockingjay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaMostly/pseuds/VanillaMostly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Losing someone shouldn't hurt so much anymore. [Mrs. Everdeen-centric]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halcyon Days

 

She was forty-three years old.

Losing someone shouldn't hurt so much anymore.

"Mrs. Everdeen, I am so sorry, but-"

The girl who came to deliver the news was a little thing, freckly-faced, nervous eyes, cheeks still round, too young to be a soldier. She couldn't be much older than Prim.

Mrs. Everdeen shook her head, shutting her eyes.

She already knew.

\---

She and Lonan had talked about it, once. Dying. "I'd like to be cremated," Lonan had told her, "my ashes spread over a valley. Somewhere pretty."

"Your standards are a little high, don't you think?" she had joked.

Lonan had nudged her on the shoulder, his lips quirking into the crooked smile she knew so well.

"Well, buried wouldn't be so bad. As long as the place's sunny and nice. Preferably next to you."

He had wrapped his fingers around hers. Even now, Mrs. Everdeen stroked her hand sometimes, almost expecting to feel his callused, gentle touch.

When the time did come, though, there wasn't enough left of Lonan to bury. Or cremate.

They gave her what was left in Lonan's locker instead.

His leather jacket; a water bottle; pictures: a shot of him and Mrs. Everdeen on their wedding day; school photos of the kids.

\--

"How is she?"

Haymitch took a swig of his bottle. "She'll live," he said.

Two little words. _She'll live._ Better than nothing. They could start from there.

"Will you go with her?" Mrs. Everdeen asked him.

"You won't?" he shot back.

She leaned against the railing, looking below. Streets that teemed with people. Streets and alleys and buildings arching to the sky, a foreign map to her, though she had been here for the past several months. Snow's mansion was visible beneath the fog. Half of it still in rubble.

"District 4 isn't your home," Haymitch said.

No, it isn't. Of course it isn't. Home was the log shack with the cherry trees in the front yard; when Lonan had been there to keep the grass neat, she'd grown peonies and daisies around the door. Mrs. Everdeen, pregnant with Prim, sometimes read to Katniss while sitting on the makeshift swing Lonan had made, not that Katniss paid much attention, her little legs always running eagerly whenever she heard Lonan's footsteps and singing.

Before that, home was the beige brick house with the dark green accents and hand-painted sign that said, "Welcome!" Home was the wood-scented incense glowing in the corner and the soft clinks of Mrs. Everdeen's father crushing herbs in his granite mortar and pestle. Home was Mrs. Everdeen's bed with the cotton pastel-plaid sheets on which Mrs. Everdeen and her best friends painted their nails and shared bowls of peppermint candy from the Donners' shop.

Home was... the past.

"Give me some time," she said quietly.

Haymitch did not question. Mrs. Everdeen did like this about him. When he was younger Haymitch had been a bit of an obnoxious jerk, but he was alright now.

The thought, amazingly, made her smile.

"Thank you, Haymitch," she told him.

"Don't thank me yet," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

"You are a better parent than I am."

"And you," he said, pointing his bottle at her, "are crazier than I thought."

\--

On her last day, just as she was packing up, she saw Peeta.

He was looking better. Still worn and hurt, never would be the wholesome young man from before everything happened - none of them would - but he was something like himself again. He was strong. He was in love with her daughter. Whether or not he realized this yet.

"You're leaving her," he said. "She needs you, and you're leaving her."

His eyes were angry, but Mrs. Everdeen wasn't afraid.

"Peeta," she started.

"Are you scared of going back? You are. Everyone is." He was jittery, pacing around the room, raking a hand through his hair. "No one wants to go back but- you can't abandon Twelve. You have a choice. Not a lot people did!" His voice had risen to a shout.

He looked at her, then looked at his feet.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Mrs. Everdeen, I-"

She left the suitcase to stand next to him. A hand on his arm. "Sit, Peeta," she said. "Let's talk."

She poured him tea, which he stared at, clearly uncomfortable. It struck her that this was the first time she had ever talked seriously to Peeta Mellark. The boy who saved her daughter more than once. The boy who at one time was to be her son-in-law. Well, there was still a chance of that. But that was left to him, and to Katniss.

He was also Noah's son, the one who looked most like him. Weight loss and injuries had changed that, but the eyes were exactly the same.

"I'm not going back. I'm not ready yet," she said. "You were right. It's because I'm scared. That place is haunted for me. I do have a choice- and I'm choosing to stay away. Until I am ready."

She rubbed at the ring on her finger. Copper, simple band. No jewels. Noah Mellark would have given her his grandmother's diamond ring. He talked of it while they were still in school. Their mothers had been close friends. Everyone expected them to marry as soon as they graduated. He had been Mrs. Everdeen's first kiss.

"I know Katniss needs me. She needs me more than District 4 or any hospital does. I need her, too. She's all I have left."

Literally.

First to go was Mrs. Everdeen's mother. Pneumonia, the winter before the Quarter Quell. Her mother used to sing to Mrs. Everdeen. Voice wasn't as pretty as Lonan's or Katniss's, but she remembered she had liked it.

Second to go was Maysilee, who could always make Mrs. Everdeen laugh, even on the last day. Laughter and tears. Not the worst, as far as goodbyes went.

Third to go was Melaina, who hadn't truly _gone_ \- not then, anyway - but might as well have. Mrs. Everdeen hated to think that their friendship was so weak it couldn't survive the hole of Maysilee's absence. She could have tried harder. There hadn't been a goodbye; just a fight. A door closed on Mrs. Everdeen's face. Next time she and Mel saw each other, they were strangers. Mel died, consumed in the flames, a stranger.

Fourth to go was Noah Mellark. A conversation on Mrs. Everdeen's doorstep. Cold fogging their breaths. He went away, his back small in the snow, and she almost thought of going after him. But it would only hurt him more. Or so she told herself till she believed it.

Fifth to go was Mrs. Everdeen's father. His heart. Mrs. Everdeen couldn't be there. Their last words had been angry ones; he didn't approve of Lonan. Mrs. Everdeen didn't listen. Too late, when she saw them carry out his body. She never got to say she loved him. And missed him.

Sixth to go was Lonan. Part of her went with him. Katniss never forgave her. But what use was forgiveness, if you didn't deserve it?

Seventh to go was Prim.

"Even if I return with Katniss, I won't be there for her. Not in the way that she needs. I want... things to be okay- that I will be okay, seeing... But before I can do that I have to start somewhere new. I do."

Mrs. Everdeen took a slow sip of her tea, spilling some. She wrapped her hands around the mug, willing them to still.

"I think I... understand," said Peeta softly.

"I want you to understand," she smiled. "I like you, Peeta."

"You do?" A smile tugged his lips as well. "I tried to kill your daughter."

"You won't try it again."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a mother. I know."

He drank his tea. He wasn't fidgeting anymore. His blue eyes looked into hers, clearly and honestly. The mask he put on for the cameras wasn't as good as he probably thought. Now there wasn't a need for it.

"My father once told me..." he began. He closed his mouth almost immediately.

"Yes. We were almost married."

"But you liked Mr. Everdeen."

"I liked your father, too. Just not in the same way."

Peeta absorbed this, playing with the rim of his mug.

"Is Gale a lot like Mr. Everdeen?" he asked.

Gale. Lean and dark and tall. Always brought them a jar of his own family's honey along with the game, when Katniss had been away. Prim loved him. He raised her high in the air sometimes to make her shriek and giggle.

"Yes," Mrs. Everdeen admitted.

Peeta's eyes dimmed, just slightly.

"But Katniss isn't me," she added.

\--

The sea.

She had never thought she'd live to see the sea. They taught it in school, and she'd seen it on television often enough, so she knew it was something vast, blue, endless stretch of water to the horizon... But in District 12 the sea was a myth. In a town where coal dust sticks to your skin and sinks to your pores, you just couldn't imagine a beauty like this was real. Not in this world.

"It's something, isn't it?" sighed Annie.

Annie had been a pleasant surprise. A familiar face, in the crowd, when Mrs. Everdeen had stepped off the train.

"Do you ever get used to it?" asked Mrs. Everdeen.

"Not really, no," said Annie.

She placed a hand on the bump of her stomach, a motion she probably wasn't even aware of. Mrs. Everdeen remembered the feeling too well. The little life inside you. Reassuring yourself that it was still there. That you weren't alone.

"Shall we go closer?" asked Annie.

"Please."

Mrs. Everdeen followed Annie's cues: took off her shoes, submerged her bare feet into the sand. Water washed over her feet, lapped at her ankles. Mrs. Everdeen looked up to see the sun, peeking behind clouds.

"It is still winter here, right?"

Annie laughed. "You got here on a good day."

She led the way down the shore. Some children were playing; digging in the sand. The rhythm of the ocean waves, hypnotic in Mrs. Everdeen's ears. Boats in the distance. A flock of birds - seagulls, Mrs. Everdeen recalled vaguely from lessons in school - flew overhead.

_Mama, read that again. The one with the sea birds._

Prim always liked that story best. When she was on the verge of falling asleep she would say, smiling drowsily, "That's a good ending, isn't it, Mama?"

Katniss, lying next to her, would snort. She pretended she was too old for bedtime stories, but she always listened. "The wife drowned herself after her husband died. It's stupid. It's sad."

"No..." Prim yawned, snuggling tighter. "I think it's nice. They get turned into birds. They can fly together forever. And the sea is peaceful."

Lonan stroked Prim's hair, chuckling. "What's that term again, Sage?"

"Halcyon days."

"I like that," he said. "Halcyon days."

\--

At a break in her workday, Mrs. Everdeen picked up the phone and dialed. They'd given her a portable phone, something small and thin and smooth, and it took a her a while to get used to working it - but she did. Like she got used to other things (except the sea). Most of the time, the phone rang and rang into silence. Occasionally, Sae picked up.

"Some screaming in her sleep. But she's eating."

And:

"Hear the boy's coming back soon. He'll watch for her."

And:

"Today, she got herself up. She's coming around. Jus' taking it slow."

"Thank you," Mrs. Everdeen whispered at the end of these calls.

Sae's reply was always a gruff grunt.

\--

Days blurred. The hospital was growing. Annie visited. Her baby was to be a boy. Patients came in and out, shaking Mrs. Everdeen's hands. She tried to let every warm smile overtake every wisp of blond braids she glimpsed; every dark-haired man with a five-o'-clock shadow; every mother holding a little girl on her lap. One day, one of the nurses was pointing out the window and exclaiming, "Look! The trees are blooming!"

"What kind of blossoms are those?" asked another nurse.

Mrs. Everdeen answered for them. "Cherry." She looked around at the curious faces. "We had... have... them back home."

The sting did not come, not this time.

\--

The phone call came in early morning. Near sunrise.

"Mom?"

On the other end of the line was a broken voice, choking on the word. A child again.

"Oh, Katniss."

Mrs. Everdeen pressed a hand to her mouth.

They cried together.

\--

"See that?" Lonan had asked, one dewy morning, holding her hand.

"What?"

"Geese returning. Snow's melting. Sky's blue." He turned and smiled. "It's spring. After every winter, there's spring. Don't forget that."

"I won't."

She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder, and listened to Lonan sing. The song with the meadow. It was her favorite.

After every winter, there's spring.

\--

END

 

 


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